Willie Makeit

 

Somewhere on a country road

out on a stretch of fence

There sits a weary traveler

who thinks in present tense

With feathers I have traveled far

my vision keen at night

Beyond the forest and the fields

I have taken flight

Above the grazing cattle

out to the farthest shore

I’ve felt the chill of mountain tops

I’ve heard the ocean’s roar

Yet here I have a front row seat

to see the cars speed past

and wonder when the squirrel will cross

yes -no, yes no – at last.